#flowercode

and jeff calling ganke Gankster😭

and maria hill

+

When I was living and working at my origin center (what I call the women's shelter I called home for a while) I saw how hard it was for the ladies to not be able to communicate with loved ones. They knew they couldn't directly contact or their exes would find them. I saw 2 ladies return to their abusers simply to have that familial contact. So, the manager at that center gave me the ok to implement a code system for communication. I studied several styles and decided on a unique one that is not well known.

It consists of using flowers to give out short messages. It didn't take me long to develop the meanings. I kept it simple as several girls didn't have much education behind them. I will, eventually, make it even more detailed. Then it took a couple months of using various unknown people, phone calls, and traveling to families to set this up so they'd know the code when they received the message cards. Now, its become a great source for us survivors to keep that connection alive and feel less alone in this struggle. I share it now, so that if you know one who struggles, you can pass it on.

So, eventually I hope that all these jagged bits of KakaIru story my brain spits out will align themselves into one perfectly plotted whole. Right now, I believe that the premise goes like this:

Iruka has a secret admirer, who corresponds with him by leaving flowers on his desk. The actual message is in the meaning of the flowers and while I'm not sure yet when Iruka works out who leaves the flowers, and how he'll react, they do come in handy when he's captured and imprisoned on a mission.

Make sense? Maybe not.

***

A couple of spindly, greyish-green stalks, two feet tall and with their base buried in a deep green ceramic pot, the thing had no redeeming features, not even decent spikes, though Iruka thought it might be distantly related to a cactus.  It inhabited a corner of his desk one morning as he came to work, the now familiar note of red crepe by its side.  And Iruka sighed, decided to read up on the meaning of cacti in the evening and finally took the sad specimen home with him.

For the next few months the pot took up a quiet corner in Iruka's living room, ignored and neglected – in as much as Iruka could neglect any living thing.  He never found out the name and meaning of the spindly plant and even forgot to associate it with his secret admirer.

Two nights before Iruka left on his mission, the unprepossessing, lanky plant, half-forgotten in its corner on the windowsill taught Iruka a lesson. It flowered.

The white bloom, made up of thousands of smaller petals, lasted for just one night.  But watching it slowly open as the sun sank and night darkened over Konoha was one experience Iruka would not soon forget. Just as he would remember the flower's sweet scent and how it lingered in his home as he left.